#i have gar/vic/kory left for the titans but i’ll just save them for the new year lol

[bearforceone3]

tempest garth design because i haven’t drawn garth in months

[danny-chase]

if you want, maybe you could do "severed artery" with Dick and have Roy (or one of the other Titans) take care of him? love your writing and I hope you're having a nice day!

AHH thank you so much! I hope you enjoy!

Severed Artery - read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics), Nightwing (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Harper & Dick Grayson Characters: Roy Harper, Dick Grayson, Garth (DCU), Donna Troy (minor) Additional Tags: Can be read as pre-slash, POV Roy Harper, POV Dick Grayson, vomitting, Blood, Guns, Hospitals, Canon-Typical Violence, dick is a little shit, Roy is a Little Shit, Homophobia, Roy Harper Needs a Hug, Roy Harper gets/gives a hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Roy Harper emotional whump, Protective Roy Harper, Hurt Dick Grayson, Garth is the best, Titans as family, Confused Dick Grayson, Medical Inaccuracies Series: Part 6 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick and Roy are little shits to each other, until the night takes a turn for the worse.

Full story under cut

“Aight, Donna, you ready to go?” Roy chirped, taking a second to look himself over in the mirror, running his fingers through his (surprisingly) soft hair (he’d be stealing Dick’s shampoo more often) – getting that perfect messy, but stylish look. He fired off finger guns at his reflection – he was killing it, somehow listening to Gar of people had worked out – he gave shockingly good fashion advice.

Feeling optimistic, he sauntered into the hall, only to be met with Donna’s confused expression.

“Roy, I’m going out with the girls tonight, I told you like four times.” She leaned against the wall, gesturing to Jesse and Toni, car keys dangling from her hand. Jesse stared at him, an eyebrow cocked judgmentally, as Toni smiled, offering a little wave. He waved back, watching Jesse’s expression morph into disapproval.

“Hey, I didn’t even do anything!” He complained, glaring at Jesse. She rolled her eyes, not deigning to verbally respond. Ice queen.

Reaching out, Donna patted his shoulder, waiting until he met her eyes. “I’m sorry, hun, but we’ve got tickets to a concert, could we go out next weekend?” She fluttered her eyelids slightly, sending chills up his spine. “Why don’t you take one of the boys with you?”

“Terrible company, but babe, have fun, I’ll figure something out.” He cupped her chin in his hand, leaning forward to peck a kiss to the top of her head, ignoring the fact she squatted down to make the moment work.

“Mm, thanks.” With that, the girls were off for the night, leaving him stranded in a deserted hallway.

Well. He could do what Donna suggested and take out one of the guys – he had the reservation, and Lian was already situated with the sitter. But which guy was the question… Wally was out with the league, Garth was visiting home, Vic was with Gar, and Grant had a date. Which left Dick – no - Dick was busy working – actually yes – he likely needed a break.

Actually – was he even here?

He started towards the central control room, poking a head in Dick’s room on the way and had to do a double take.

“You’re actually in <em>your room</em>?” Dick threw a pencil at him without looking up from his desk, child’s play to dodge – Dick speak for hmm, maybe something like ‘asshole’, but he took it as an invitation to enter. But if Dick was going to call him an asshole, he had expectations to live up to.

He took a standing leap, twisting and flopping across Dick’s immaculately made bed, sending blankets and pillows careening off the side. Dick ignored him, scribbling down some notes on a pad of paper. Roy waited for a few minutes, listening to the scratch of pen on paper. Quick and noisy – Dick was likely stressed – he was pushing down harder than normal; he gave it an eighty/twenty chance something was up.

Ripping paper proved him right, as Dick frustratedly crumpled up the page of notes, throwing them behind him, hitting the recycling bin with ease. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes.

“Showoff.” Dick startled, jumping out of his chair, Roy’s own reflexes were the only thing that saved him from taking a pen between the eyes.

“What the fuck, Richard?!” He yelled, yanking the little missile out of the air. A faint flush tinted the top of Dick’s ears.

“I forgot you were there.” The admission was almost too quiet to hear, but combined with the minute sign of embarrassment, it rang of truth. Roy could milk this, oh he totally could.

“What was that, why did you almost kill me?” If he played his cards right, he wouldn’t be dining alone tonight.

“I didn’t think you were…” Dick trailed off, glaring at him. “You heard what I said.” He retorted, catching on. Sucks to suck, Dickie – he was obviously tired if that spooked him – he was likely running on caffeine.

“Oh, you misunderstand.” Scooching off the edge of the bed, he hopped lightly onto the balls of his feet. “Why’d the batboy forget I was there, hmm?” He pulled a half-eaten energy bar off the desk, inspecting the wrapper. Dick casually rocked back in his chair.

“See, completely decaf, I told you I’d-” Roy yanked open a drawer, Dick darting to stop him. “This is my desk!” He slammed the drawer shut a moment too late – Roy had good eyes after all.

“Hmm, so how do you explain the-”

“Get out, I have stuff to do – aren’t you supposed to be on a date with-”

“-CAFFIENE PILLS IN YOUR DRAWER!” He shouted through Dick’s response, effectively shutting him up. There’d been an intervention years ago after too many days spent on one hour or less of sleep. “You know the deal.” Dick groaned as he ruffled his hair.

“I have to-”

“Eat, shower, and sleep. And I have reservations. For two. You’re coming with me.” Ah yes, a romantic dinner date with Dick Grayson. People would kill for this. Dick crossed his arms. Roy picked up his chair, staggering towards the door. Dick was going whether he liked it or not, a real meal (not protein shakes or energy bars) would do him good.

“No one’s even done this to me in like, a year.” He noted, gracefully leaping out of the seat. “Asshole.” Grumbling he lightly punching him in the arm before heading into his walk-in closet, stripping off his shirt as he went. Automatically, Roy scanned for any new injuries, his eyes lingering over a few of the old.

“Liar, Wally caught you two months ago. Besides, the restaurant is nice, Donna likes it and you two are basically the same person, so you’ll love it.” Dick scoffed, stepping out of view.

“Is that all I am to you? Your replacement for Donna?” He sounded mildly offended.

“Nah, you’re too ugly to replace her.” Dick hmphed. “And your personality sucks.” Roy added.

“Why the hell am I going with you?”

“It’s not like your night could get any worse.” Dinner was better than casework after all.

Dick’s head poked out the doorway, looking completely unamused. “Asshole.” He chirped a second time, ducking back away.

Roy sat across from him, speaking between mouthfuls of pasta, smacking his lips together. “So anyways this kid, Johnny is like, sitting next to Lian in class, and he keeps taking her crayons and won’t give them back.” Dick thought for a moment, watching Roy drum his fingers rhythmically on the table. “And the teacher is being ridiculous, she just believes Johnny over Lian. My Lian! Can you believe it?” He slammed his fork down, articulating the point.

<em>And you’re sure Lian gave you the whole story?</em> Was what Dick wondered, but he’d prefer not to die for questioning Lian’s integrity tonight. “Why don’t you mark her crayons with a sharpie and let the teacher know?” Roy’s fingers stopped.

“Huh, hadn’t thought of that.” He leaned back in his seat, distantly looking out the window. People trickled down the street, passing by the little café, kicking up crimson leaves from half empty trees. Streetlights flickered on; fairy lights crisscrossing the avenue, as the sun lazily sunk in the sky. It was a beautiful night – Roy was right, he did love it, the food was good – catching up with Roy was refreshing – and the location was stunning; as always, Roy always picked the perfect places for dates. Dick was past the point of being annoyed at the situation but was still determined to give Roy a hard time.

“Well, maybe if you thought about that instead of harassing me.” He leaned forward, resting his head on his hand, dramatically looking out the window – Babs was going to kill him for being late with his case reports. Again. Roy smirked as he rocked forward, reaching across the table to lay a hand on his forearm. He at least had the decency to look apologetic.

“Look, you know the deal.” Brushing his thumb against his skin placatingly, he waited until Dick met his eyes. “You’re working full time, and have your nightly duties, and you’re with us.” His voice dropped, his nostrils flaring in irritation. “It’s not like you’ll leave Bruce alone any time soon either. Dick.” His eyes crinkled around the edges – concern. “You’ve got to start taking care of yourself.” Dick rolled his eyes; he was doing fine.

“You’re working with Ollie, you have a daughter, and you’re working with us, look I had one breakdown-”

“More than one-”

“-Only one that wasn’t the result of external influences.” Fuck Brother Blood for the other ones. “We made the caffeine deal after,” he grimaced reflexively “I broke up with Kory but, Roy.” He clasped Roy’s hand with his other hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m doing better now.” Tilting his head to the side, he cracked his neck. “Plus, you only brought me along because Donna was busy, that’s not what the deal was for.”

“Okay, maybe that was shitty of me, but it’s nice seeing you without the tights.” Roy flashed a winning smile. “Not that I don’t like seeing you in them, the new stuff looks great.”

“Oh, so I don’t look great now?” He teased. He’d picked out his brightest shirt for the occasion – a polo patterned after bowling alley carpet paired with the tightest red jeans he could find, and of course, a pair of heels borrowed from Donna. A single giant hoop earring dangled off his left ear. If he was going out with Roy, he wanted people taking pictures. Payback. This would be in the news tomorrow.

“Babe,” Roy lifted up his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You look stunning.” He grinned goofily, seemingly happy to play along. Welp. If that’s how they were going to play it. He booped Roy’s nose, watching his pupils dilate. Dick recoiled in surprise – Roy wasn’t -

“Wait, you’re not actually-”

A scream cut him off, whirling around in his seat he saw a large man storming into the café brandishing a gun, his face red beet red and angry. He turned back, squeezing Roy’s hand, nodding towards the silverware.

“No-no one else move!” The guests around them stayed frozen in place. Three older ladies on their right, a family of four on their left (he guessed it was the young girl who screamed), and a couple across from them. The staff ducked behind the counter as people outside the restaurant scrambled away.

Dick raised his hands slowly. “I said no one move!” The gun pointed directly at him. Perfect.

“Okay, I won’t move.” He said steadily, watching sweat bead on the man’s head – he was nervous, his hands twitched uneasily on the gun – possibly his first time, and he kept muttering to himself. He watched Roy’s hand carefully creep towards silverware in his peripheral. “Do you want money? My father is rich.” Watching the man jitter about, he slowly stood up. Roy’s hand closed around the fork.

“Okay? You-you can get me money?” The man mused to himself, shifting his weight back and forth. He started lowering his gun, taking a step forward, he reached out his other hand. Dick took a few steps to the right, away from his chair, shifting attention away from Roy. “Okay the-”

*BANG* The world sped up around him, he rushed forward as the man fell-

*BANG* The man hadn’t even hit the ground – he was already dead – already-

“DICK-”

*BANG* Blood and brain matter poured out of the man’s head, someone was screaming, it didn’t need to-

*BANG*

“STOP!” Someone slammed into his side, and he hurtled to the ground. “HOLD YOUR FIRE!”

Roy’s face hovered above him. “Dick! You’re going to be fine.” His hands clamped napkins to his left shoulder, one on his front the other on his back – and shit – that was a lot of blood. “Hey, look at me.” Pain radiated out for the spot as Roy doubled the weight on the wound, blood seeping out past his fingers, waves pulsating in time to his heartbeat.

Cops burst in through the door, rushing to swarm the dead body. One glanced their way. “Oh shit, you hit the fa-”

“Fucking call an ambulance you dipshits!” Roy’s voice sounded farther away. “Slow your heart, fuck, do your Jedi weirdo bat tricks.” He hissed. Too late, sometimes, things happen too fast. “They hit an artery.” The blood wasn’t stopping, the napkin was soaked through, Dick felt himself slipping into shock. “Dick, stay awake!”

“Lo-ve y-ou.” He stumbled over the words as the world exploded – a million things happening at once – his thoughts scattering as black tinged his vision, overcoming everything.

Roy scrubbed his hands, pausing over the sink, watching the pink water rush down the drain, gurgling as it went. He rubbed a hand further, tackling the blood crusted over his elbow. He made a mistake of catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror –Dick’s blood was everywhere, coating his shirt, arms, pants, even some on his face. His stomach flipped, clenching tightly as he started to gag - fuck.

Throwing himself over the toilet, dinner rising back up in his throat, he threw up the seat. Shaking, he held himself over the porcelain toilet, fingertips staining it red, as he heaved. Soap bubbles dripped from his hands over the edge of the bowl, spattering on the ground.

Each drop spurred a recollection of the night’s events.

*Plop* The man was dead before he hit the grown, brain matter spattering the wall.

*Plop* A bullet whistled through the air, missing Dick by millimeters, lodging six inches next to the little girl’s head. He ran, screaming <em>“Dick!”</em>

*Plop* Blood sprayed out, a bullet ripping through Dick’s shoulder, as he kept moving towards the man.

*Plop* <em>“Stop!”</em> Tackling Dick out of the way, he screamed for them to stop, ripping napkins off a table and desperately trying to stop Dick’s life from slipping through his fingers.

He fell to his knees, a pit growing in his stomach spreading to his chest, rooting him to the spot. He curled his knees to his chest. Fuck. Dick had been shot before. But this? It was different. They weren’t in costume, they hadn’t been ready – the man hadn’t even shot anyone, only the bastard cops had.

<em>“Love you.”</em>

What kind of final words were those! He sat on the tile floor, banging his head into the side of the wall. Dick couldn’t die. Not because he forced him on some dumb dinner date! It wasn’t fucking fair!

His vision blurred, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the tears, unless he wanted blood in his eyes. Just – fuck. “FUCK!” His shout reverberated around the room. This was all his fault – he should have stayed home with Lian, guilt pooled in the bottom of his stomach. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? Why’d he always have to have the last word? What was wrong with him!? Normal people didn’t antagonize each other like that!

The door creaked open. “Roy?” Garth called, the door squealing as it slowly opened. “Donna’s here too, are you ohhhhhhhhh-kay?” His jaw dropped, though he quickly recovered. Roy looked away, in a failed attempt to hide the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Garth stared at his hands. “That’s a lot of blood.” He muttered, his eyes darting around the room. “I mean, I brought you clean clothes.” He placed pair of sweats and a ratty t-shirt he’d stolen from Dick years ago on the counter. Roy’s eyes lingered on the shirt, no doubt the choice had been intentional.

The sound of rushing water cut through the silence, seeming to grow louder with each passing moment. Garth leaned back against the counter, hopping up next to the sink. “He’ll be fine.”

“Yep.” Dick was always fine. Always fine until he wasn’t.

“It’s not your fault.” Wrong.

“Debatable.” Garth frowned at the response but held his tongue. Instead, he let his head fall back against the mirror, staring up at the ceiling.

Softly, barely above a whisper, he continued. “I left you all alone for one day and this is how it ends up.” Roy bit his lip. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Guilt bubbled in the bottom of his stomach, and annoyance overcame him; they’d had these conversations before.

“Are you kidding me? I know what you want me to say. It’s not your fault – of course not. But then you’ll say ah but it’s not my fault either.” Angrily throwing his arms in the air, he continued, his voice growing louder. “And no – Garth – actually it is my fault!” He could feel the blood rushing to his face. “I’m the one who made him go to the restaurant. I’m the one was too late getting him out of the line of fire!” His voice resounded around the cramped room. He banged his head against the wall again. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do and thanks. But no thanks.”

Nonchalantly shrugging, Garth gestured to the water. “Wallowing here won’t make you feel less guilty. Apologizing when he wakes up will help, and I’m sure you’d prefer to be clean when the time comes.”

“Garth? Could you just…” He trailed off; anger quickly overcome by a wave of guilt. Shut up? Leave? Stop? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure he didn’t deserve whatever pity Garth was feeling. A wet paper towel smacked him in the face.

“Kick you in the rear so you’ll get off your sorry ass and clean yourself up?” Hopping off the counter, Garth strode over, lifting Roy by the elbow. “That’s not my style. But I’ll help you get cleaned up.” He let himself be dragged towards the running water, facing himself in the mirror once more, though this time he focused on Garth.

Sometimes Dick could swear he was actually a time traveler. Or maybe had latent teleportation abilities. Realistically, he’d probably just blacked out from blood loss or a concussion, but eh, that option wasn’t as fun. Blinking, he found himself in a familiar setting; a hospital room in a private wing, at – a clock ticked to his left, looking up – it was 4:19am.

He waited a minute, watching the clock turn to 4:20 - nice.

What was he doing again? How long was he out?

He struggled for a moment before remembering that he went out with Roy at 6pm last night, so he was out for… god math was hard. Six to twelve is six hours plus four, uh, ten hours and twenty minutes. Right. As long as it was the same day, he was set.

“Shit.” He promptly realized he couldn’t move his left arm. A sling. UGH. “Son of a-” he cut himself off, realizing he wasn’t alone in the room, Donna was gently snoring in a nearby chair, a little throw blanket covering her. The patterns had fish people… there was a word for that… mer-somethings-maids, mermaids. Mermaids – Garth – Garth was here, that was his blanket.

Dick scanned the room, checking for signs of life. Someone’s bag was on the floor, but he didn’t feel like expending the brain power to figure out who’s. Alright. He steeled himself. Now was the perfect time for escape.

The room spun as he sat up, turning around and round again before his eyes. Hah. Count Vertigo was way worse than this. Yep, head empty, room spinning, this was fine. Swinging his legs over the bed, an alarm blared next to his head.

“Fuck!” He jumped out of his skin, springing to his feet, in a defensive position. Well. He thought he did. The room was tilting on its side, the high-pitched noise shattering his thoughts. Instinctively, he tried to run.

“Woah there, shorty.” He found himself held by strong arms, the world turning once more. The familiar scent of Roy’s aftershave overpowered his senses. Distantly he was aware of the alarm turning off, his legs hitting the back of the bed. Roy’s face swam into view as he was guided back onto the bed, now propped up by soft pillows. So much for escape…

He closed his eyes, waiting for the rush of dizziness to pass. “Roy?” Warm arms wrapped around his torso, snaking tenderly around the sling. “What?” He mumbled - not that he was complaining, as he nestled his chin on Roy’s shoulder. He sighed contentedly, pressing his face into Roy’s stiff neck, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth.

For some reason, the wheels in his brain began turning. Roy. Dinner. Gunshots. His eyes shot open. “Fuck did you get hit, are you okay?” He pulled back, scanning Roy for injuries.

“I’m fine.” Roy facepalmed.

“What?”

“You got shot and you’re asking if <em>I’m</em> okay?” Roy shook his head, exhaustion clear in his voice. Dick looked at his sling again.

“I got shot?” It was like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place. “I got shot…” Wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere else? “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to my boss?”

Sighing, Roy took a seat on the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this?” Turning, he looked Dick in the eyes. “Don’t answer that actually. Look, I’m sorry I made you go out to dinner.”

“Why? It was nice.” The food was good. Sputtering, Roy searched for words.

“Well. Don’t say I never apologized.” A little bit of a blush crept up his neck.

His mind abruptly recalled something he’d heard Roy saying to Lian. “Apologies come with hugs.” Roy rolled his eyes but moved closer anyways.

“You don’t even know why I’m apologizing.” He mumbled, brushing Dick’s bangs to the side. Dick grinned as Roy pecked his forehead, sweeping him into a second embrace. Two hugs in one day – that was a pretty good day. Roy’s fingers stroked through his hair, as Dick leaned into his muscular side, the world spinning slightly, though he’d found a solid rock to lean on.

[nightofnyx8]

Fearless

I sat down to write about a month ago and this story kind of came out. I’ve always liked the dynamic Beast Boy and Raven have, especially because they are polar opposites. But because I’m a sucker for seeing how couples complement each other, a little oneshot for them made me happy. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think!

************************************

Red.

Violent, unforgiving red.

The very color that connected her to the unholy demon that had brought her into existence.

It filled her mind quickly. Rage. Panic. Terror.

She saw him, his one slitted eye mocking her through his orange and black mask. 

“This is it, Raven.” He taunted. “This is what you were born to do.”

And then she saw their faces, crying out to her, begging her to save them. Lead filled her limbs and the ground opened up beneath her feet. She screamed as she fell into the black abyss, the sound of her father’s merciless laughter waiting for her below.

Down.

Down.

Gone.

 ********************************************

“NO!”

Rachel bolted upright, clutching at the sheets for support. The blurred edges around her vision sharpened as she realized where she was.

The moonlight shed a soft beam into the bedroom, illuminating the dresser against the wall. The faded wallpaper was barely visible between the crowded picture frames. Her husband snored softly beside her.

Just another nightmare.

Rachel sighed, gathering her sweaty, plastered hair up into a ponytail. This was getting old. At least she hadn’t woken up Gar. The one good thing about her sleep-like-a-rock husband was that she could make all the noise in the world and he would still be snoring peacefully, not a care in the world. Sometimes she envied him for that.

Her sight rested upon the old beaten up alarm clock that sat on the bedside table. The numbers 3:38 AM glared at her in a blocky, sinister red.

The exact shade as her father.

Exasperated, she slid out of bed and walked into the kitchen. Maybe some tea would calm her down a little, and perhaps a good book to lull her back to sleep. She just couldn’t ignore the pounding voices in her head that reached every inch of her.

They were in danger. They were all in terrible danger.

But that was unreasonable. They had just visited Dick and Kory yesterday to help them move into their new house, and Victor started his new job last week. Everything was perfectly normal. There was absolutely no reason to freak out over nothing.

But is this really nothing? Her mind whispered softly. What if you’re the only one who can save them?

Rachel suppressed the thought and she wandered through the cluttered kitchen looking for her tea boxes. Gar’s organization skills left a little to be desired, and so whenever it was his turn to clean the kitchen everything sort of became more chaotic than it had been before. She finally found a nice lemon flavor and set some water to boil.

Danger. The voice warned.

Herbal Tea. Rachel countered back.

She left the stove to search a bookshelf nearby. You could always find a book whenever you needed in the cozy home she shared with Gar. There were books on the dining table, next to the couches, hiding the countertops, and even in the bathroom. Her Shakespeare was often mixed in with Gar’s comics, so every pile provided an interesting selection depending on what you were in the mood for. At first, it had annoyed Rachel how cluttered everything felt, but over the years she had grown more comfortable as she now just felt the familiar sense of home. Her house had an order, even if no one else but she and Gar understood it.

She ran her finger along the spines of a couple of old hardbacks, anticipating the stories that they held between their pages. The Castle of Otranto? Or perhaps a fantasy, like Inkheart. She decided finally upon a dystopian novel when she heard the tea kettle whistle and hurried to turn the heat down. She had just taken it off the stove when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Awake at this hour, Rae?” Gar’s voice sounded groggy and sleepy. “This is the third night in a row.”

Apparently, he could be awoken from time to time.

“I just can’t sleep Gar.” She replied simply. “The voices are getting stronger.”

Anyone who didn’t know Rachel would have thought this sentence to be strange, but it hadn’t phased Gar since he had met her so many years ago in Jump City.

“What are they saying this time?” He inquired. He went to the fridge and drank his almond milk straight from the carton.

“The same. Their faces keep showing up in my dreams, and everyone keeps ending up dead.”

“But everything’s fine, Rae,” Gar said. “We’re all fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just…it won’t stop.”

Garfield smiled. “I think all these books are finally getting to your head. Come on, let’s go back to bed, I’ll be right beside you.”

Rachel signed. “Maybe you’re right.” She said. “Just let me enjoy some tea and I’ll be up in a moment.”

Gar grinned and turned to exit the kitchen. “Don’t keep me waiting too long. We’ll go visit everyone again tomorrow when—” He stopped suddenly as the sound of something breaking startled him. He spun around to see Rachel on the floor, clutching her head in her hands, the shattered pieces the tea kettle spilling hot water onto the floor.

“Rachel!” He rushed forward and grabbed her. “What’s wrong?!”

She could feel her eyes glowing with power as her body stretched unnaturally. Then she crunched back into a ball as something seared from within, torturing her.

“Rachel, please! Come back to me!” Gar’s pleadings finally drew his wife out of her trance and the power inside ceased attacking her.

“Rae?”

Gar held her in his arms and tried to warm her clammy body. She was shaking, pale and sweaty. Suddenly she grabbed hold of his arm and looked up at him with frightened eyes.

“Garfield.” She whispered hoarsely. “They won’t s-stop! They won’t stop!”

“Shhh.” He pushed back the loose hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “It’s alright. I’m here, Rachel. I’m right here.”

He held her tightly, trying to soothe her shaking, ragged breaths. Rachel hated feeling this way, so…not in control. She hated even more that Gar had to see her that way. She knew how to control her fear, she knew how to level her mind.

So why wasn’t this time the same?

She could still see them every time she closed her eyes, their expressions seared into her mind. Dick, Kory, Victor, Garfield, all crying out on the ground, slowly fading until she was the only one left. What was happening to her?

She had become so lost in her thoughts that when Gar spoke she nearly jumped out of his arms.

“Do you still remember that movie we watched in the tower?” His voice sounded so far away, sliding its way through the cracks in her mind.

“What?”

“The horror movie. And you kept insisted that you’re weren’t scared until your emotions found another way out? And how they didn’t go away until you admitted your fear?”

“Yes…” She paused. How was this relevant?

“Well,” He caressed her hair between his fingers. “Maybe you’re scared of something now, and so your dreams are manifesting your fear. Maybe all this has something to do with, you know, Slade.”

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut again. That undead monster had given the Titans a right good scare a week ago, when he had suddenly appeared in Bludhaven, ten years after since the last time they saw him. He had said nothing, did nothing, only watched them from the news station tower. Dick had been searching for clues ever since, going through old piles of evidence, even searching the old tower in Jump City. Victor said it was nothing to worry about now, but Rachel wasn’t so sure. She could still feel his iron hands clamped around her arms, forcing her to face the destiny she never wanted. His voice taunted her in her mediations, his masked face blurring into that of Trigons’. She was used to criminals whose agendas were simple and easy to expose. But she had never quite forgotten the mercenary who had gotten so deep inside her head.

“Victor said we couldn’t do anything right now, and there’s no reason to—"

“Rachel, it’s okay to be scared.”

She looked at him, his green eyes speaking a thousand words that she could somehow understand. She reached out and cupped her hand to his cheek, feeling his warmth spread through her fingers.

“I just can’t lose you, Gar. Any of you.”

He slipped his own hand over hers, bringing her fingers down to his lips. “I know, Rachel, I know. But I can’t lose you either. I can’t lose you…to yourself. Slade always messes with our minds. Don’t you remember what he did to Dick with just a little bit of dust?”

She shivered, not wanting to recall the horrifying mirages that had haunted the Boy Wonder’s head after he had been exposed to some hallucinating substance off of Slade’s mask.

“Don’t give him another second of your time. Don’t give him that satisfaction. If he wants to fight, then we’ll fight. But we’re done playing games with him.”

It took some time, but she could begin to see some sense in what Gar was saying. Slade was a madman yes, and his methods were never quite clear. But they had learned from experience that the more they tried to expose his plans, the worse off they became in the end. No, the best defense right now was to get a grip on what was real, and what was not.

She felt a small smile tug on her lips. No matter how much he drove her up the wall with his antics, her Garfield always had a knack for saying just the right thing when you needed it the most.

“Of course, if he really wants to play games, we could just invite him over to play Mega Monkeys 3. Vic and I would kick his butt through the roof.”

Rachel scowled. “We’re having a moment.”

“And I am joyfully ruining it.” He said playfully, pulling her into a kiss that made her forget whatever retort she was about to give him. “Come one, no use crying over spilled tea. Let’s get you back to bed.”

After a few more minutes of his lame jokes and gentle kisses he goaded from her, they both found themselves back in the bed she so wanted to escape from an hour ago. Gar propped himself up on his elbow to face her.

“We can call Kory tomorrow and see if that Hobbit she likes has found anything on Slade. Besides, you know you need your Mar’i fix.”

“Don’t you mean yourself?”

He smirked. “You know you need it, even if you won’t admit it. Everyone knows Auntie Raven is her favorite!”

She groaned and he laughed, driving away the darkness. He turned off the lamp on the nightstand and pulled the covers up to block the cold wintry air. She felt his fingers stroke her cheek, his face soft and assuring in the veiled moonlight.

For a moment, she thought he was going to say something profound, just as the achingly tragic characters in her books often said to their lovers.

Instead, the corners of his lips turned upward in a knowing smirk.  

“And if that creep shows up in your dreams again, you tell him to come after moi. Nothing’s getting through this Beastly Man.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Idiot. Just shut up and hold me.”

He chuckled quietly, nestling her between his arms. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, feeling the constant beating of his heart.

And for the first time in three days, her sleep became dreamless.